


We Can See Everything From Here

by eyesonfire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Niall-centric OT5, Porn With Plot, basically shameless, i can't write smut, idk - Freeform, kind of, x factor era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonfire/pseuds/eyesonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam kept sneaking him glances, like he wanted to talk and Niall wanted to groan because he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to feel and he wanted to love and he wanted to be loved.</p><p>Or the one in which Niall sleeps with all of the boys during X Factor and they all fall in love with him, thinking they're the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can See Everything From Here

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this kink meme prompt: When they get put into a band, Niall decides to form unbreakable bonds with his new bandmates because he wants the band to work. Because he’s very affectionate, this bonding starts to include kissing, handjobs, blowjobs and sex. The others all fall in love with Niall and all of them think they have a loving, exclusive relationship. When they find out that Niall is with ALL of them, they can’t stay mad at him (because, seriously, who can stay mad at Niall)
> 
> Title from "All I Ever Wanted", Brian Melo

_~what seemed so out of reach, we're holding it right in our hands, let's give up everything, let's jump in and never look back~_

 

Niall knows he shouldn’t. Niall knows he _might possibly_ be giving them the wrong idea. But damn he wants this to work, he wants this band to work and he wants these boys to work and they’re all super-hot boys. It wasn’t his fault. It was innocent, it really was. It started sweetly enough, at Harry’s bungalow, just after they'd been put together as a band. And they talked a lot, and Niall pretty much immediately disclaimed that he was _quite_ gay and if that made any of them uncomfortable then they may as well say something now. And none of them looked phased, Harry half shrugged and leaned over for a fist pump, saying _right on, man_ , and Louis kind of blinking at his forthrightness, before biting his lip and saying _same_ , and he looked shocked that he'd said it, and Niall wondered if he'd ever told anyone else. And Liam had kind of shifted uncomfortably on the bean bag he was chilling on before saying hesitantly _guys can be fit too sometimes, yeah?_ and Zayn had nearly dislocated his neck flicking his gaze over at Liam.

“Yeah,” he coughed awkwardly. “Guys can be hot.” Niall had nearly choked on his own spit at that point, because when Zayn said _guys_ he obviously meant _Liam_ and Niall wondered if his eyes glowed like that when he looked at anyone else. They glowed like that at Niall, now.

And so, for the sake of full disclosure, Niall had promptly informed them all that he found them all _pretty fucking attractive_ and while Liam blushed and Zayn smirked, Louis cracked a grin and Harry tossed his curls, Maybelline-style. It was the way things were going to continue. At the bungalow, Niall would find any excuse to climb on the boys. Harry would welcome it, opening his arms and letting Niall snuggle down into his chest, cuddling without question while watching some stupid program on the telly. Louis would cuddle him back, but Louis had an ingrained tendency to not be able to sit still for more than ten minutes without fidgeting or wriggling. Snuggling with Louis was almost worth the three elbows in the gut. Almost. Zayn would fold and arm around him, letting him in close, lying still and calm and perfect beneath him. Niall could listen to Zayn's heartbeat all day, steady and slow and comforting and solid. Liam would shift uncomfortably, almost like he didn’t want Niall on his lap, though he would never say anything. Niall wondered a few times if Liam wasn’t actually as accepting of his sexuality as he'd made it seem that first night, but once while wriggling on Liam's lap, his large warm hands had grabbed his waist and held him still, not allowing him to move. It was then that Niall noticed Liam's erection. And that erection had inspired many, many naughty thoughts in Niall. He couldn’t help it, after all. He was a healthy, virile gay teenage boy, surrounded by four _very_ attractive other males, one of whom got an erection from him. Okay, so Niall wasn’t entirely sure if Liam got a hard on from _him_ specifically, or just from friction, from a warm body squirming on his lap, but he liked to think he'd caused it.

~

 

Time passed in a blur, and somehow their time at the bungalow was at an end and they had to separate for a couple of weeks before meeting up in Spain – _holy shit we’re going to Spain –_ and Niall didn’t want to leave it like this. He wasn’t sure if he was the only one who could feel this tension or not, but he was damn sure going to be the one to break it. And so the day before they had to leave, when they really should have been packing but they were still just messing around, Niall asked Liam to come help him look for a lost sneaker. Zayn would have told him to fuck off and find it himself, Louis would have suspiciously asked him what he was planning, Harry would have told him that _yeah sure, mate, I’ll help you later, just let me finish this_ and never turned up but Liam, sweet, oblivious Liam just said _sure_ and followed Niall to where all his clothes were. Liam didn’t notice anything amiss when Niall's stuff was all packed, didn’t even blink when Niall shut and locked the door. When Niall grabbed the front of his hoody and pulled Liam's lips down to meet his, Liam noticed.

“Wha-what the hell!” Liam spluttered, looking completely and utterly floored. Niall could have sworn to god Liam even cocked his head like a confused puppy. Niall stood up on his tip toes, leaning in to kiss him again, but Liam pushed him away, leaning backwards and touching his lips with his fingertips.

“What are you doing?!” he asked, baffled and shocked. Niall nearly rolled his eyes, his muscles tense and coiled and he needed release of some kind and if _Liam didn’t kiss him right fucking now-_

“Kissing you.” Niall replied, focusing more on Liam's lips than his eyes and nearly huffed in frustration when Liam spoke again. Honestly, why did Liam need to _talk_ about everything? Talking took time away from other things he could be doing. Things like kissing Liam.

“Obviously.” Liam said dryly. “But why?” Niall rolled his eyes internally again.

“Because I like you. And because I’m not going to see you until Spain. Because I’m saying goodbye. Because you're hot. Because I’m hot. Because I get you hard. Because –“

Liam cut him off.

“You like me?” _Of all the points to focus on,_ Niall thought.

“Yes.” He said. _Keep it simple. This is Liam._

“Wow. Okay. Um.” It was sweet, it really was, seeing Liam puzzle it out, a small smile on his face. Niall wanted to kiss it off.

“So can we kiss now or what?” he asked, impatient.

“Um. I guess so? I mean, yes. Definitely. Yes.”

“Thank _god.”_ Niall said emphatically, pulling Liam in again. This time, Liam didn’t pull away.

~

 

Getting Zayn away from the others was harder. Eventually Niall followed him into the laundry as Zayn went to get the last of his stuff. Stepping up close behind him, Niall wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist, leaning his head on Zayn's back and closing his eyes, breathing in the scent of Zayn.

“Hey, Niall.” Zayn murmured absentmindedly, leaning over the washing machine, trying to figure out how to work it. Niall reached around him and pressed the right button.

“Thanks.” Zayn smiled, pulling his stuff out and piling it into a basket.

“Hey, Zayn?” Niall asked, the sound still slightly muffled from his face being pressed into Zayn's back.

“Yeah?” Zayn replied, still focusing on the washing.

“If I told you that I liked you, what would you say?” Niall felt Zayn go very still beneath him.

“You – ah, you – like me?” Zayn coughed, twisting in Niall’s arms to face him.

“It depends.” Niall said, enjoying the way Zayn's Adams apple bobbed in front of his eyes.

“On?” Zayn murmured, bending towards Niall.

“Whether you like me back.” Niall replied softly, his eyes flicking between Zayn's dark, expressive ones and his lips.

“Well.” Zayn whispered, his voice rough. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“So?” Niall asked, his voice a sigh.

Zayn answered with his lips. He kissed harder than Liam, Niall wondered absently. And then Zayn’s tongue swept across his lips, and he wasn’t thinking anymore.

~

 

Louis was fun. He was in his room, furiously packing. It was late now, the windows dark, reflecting the room back at them. Niall stepped inside and smartly shut the door.

“Hey.” Louis greeted with a grin, looking up from where he was packing.

“Hey.” Niall replied, picking his way over the piles of stuff to get closer to him. “Feck, mate, what’d you do, bring your entire wardrobe?” Niall asked him, gingerly avoiding a precarious stack of what looked like his chinos perched on a chair.

“Ha, ha,”  Louis replied dryly, eyes still on his suitcase, trying to figure out how to fit at least three times the quantity of what was already in there in the already-full suitcase.

“Do you want my ass?” Niall asked him oh-so-innocently. Louis choked on his own spit.

“What?” he coughed, looking outraged, and more than slightly guilty, like he’d been caught stealing red-handed.

“To sit on the suitcase. So you can get it closed.” Niall replied, as if it was what he was meaning the entire time. “Jeez, Tomlinson, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Oh. Right.” Louis muttered, half laughing. “Yeah, sure. Thanks mate.” Niall smiled sweetly.

“No problem, Lou.”

“So what did you want? Aside from offering your magnificent ass services?” Louis asked him, focusing back on the clothes and stuffing a pile in.

“Aww, you think my ass is magnificent?” Niall cooed. “Thanks!”

“I – you- I didn’t mean that and you know it.” Louis spluttered. Niall affected a hurt look.

“So you don’t think my ass is magnificent?” he pouted. Louis looked up at him.

“Ah, shit.” He said. “How am I getting out of this one?” he asked wearily.

“Tell me my ass is magnificent.”

“Your ass is the most magnificent I have ever seen. It is truly the most perfect ass in the world – nay, the universe!” Louis said, flourishing grandly.

“Mean it.” Niall commanded, laughing.

“Your ass _is_ magnificent.” Louis assured him, looking completely honest.

“Thank you, Louis.” Niall acknowledged, a grin spreading across his face.

“You're welcome, oh great-ass-possessor.” Niall laughed out loud, the easy banter filling him with content.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. “You can stop kissing my admittedly-great ass now.”

“And what if I want to?” Louis spouted cheekily, and then froze, like he hadn't meant to blurt it out. Niall stopped grinning, wanting to shut his eyes to block out the mental images Louis’ statement had caused to erupt in his brain, images of Louis looking up at him between his legs, kissing and licking and biting his ass and his hole and _oh, god._

“I-uh-I was uh- it was a joke.” Louis stammered unconvincingly.

“Right.” Niall agreed. He stepped closer to Louis. Louis swallowed. He stepped forward again, predatory. Louis’ eyes darted towards the closed door.

“Niall?” Louis asked, looking about two seconds away from bolting. Niall wondered if he was considering the window as an escape.

“Louis.” Niall said, his voice low and husky and he saw goose bumps erupt on Louis’ arms. He chuckled evilly internally. He was close enough to touch now, and Louis looked torn between anticipation and terror.

“Niall-“ Louis said again, his voice cracking.

Niall put a hand on the older boy’s face, thumb swiping across his lips.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Niall asked, his accent prominent, like it always was when he was aroused.

“Yes- no – I don’t know!” Louis muttered wildly, leaning into Niall’s touch and focusing on Niall’s lips.

So Niall kissed him. Louis whined and kissed him back, a reckless abandon that Niall associated with Louis and his disregard for rules, his careless laughter, his messy hair.

~

 

Harry was in bed by the time Niall wandered into his room, lying down texting, or doing something on his phone.

“Hey, Nialler.” Harry grinned, his dimples tugging at Niall’s heart. Niall strolled to the bed and climbed on, resting on his knees beside Harry, who sat up against the headboard, looking at him curiously.

“You okay?” he asked, putting his phone down.

“Yeah.” Niall answered, lying. “I was just wondering.”

“About?” Harry prompted, looking genuinely concerned for him.

“Well, you know how me and Louis are gay?”

“Yeah...” Harry replied, clearly wondering where the conversation was going.

“You never said – well, you never mentioned…” he trailed off, pretending to lose his nerve. He looked down at his fingers, folding them together.

“What I am?” Harry finished. “You don’t need to be scared to ask me these things, Nialler.”

Niall nodded. “I know. It’s just…” One side of Harry's grin was tugged up, ruefully.

“I don’t know if you’ll know...have you heard of pan sexuality?”

“You’re pansexual?” Niall asked.

“Yup.” Harry acquiesced.

“So, if I were to kiss you right now, you wouldn’t be offended?” Niall inquired, fingers crossed, not that his answer made a difference because Niall had made a decision and he needed all of them.

“Never.” Harry murmured, eyes locked with Niall’s.

“Good.” And that was that.

~

 

They met up in Spain, joyful and crazy and excited and Niall was excited for more than the competition, he'd had a taste and now he wanted _more._ Liam kept sneaking him glances, like he wanted to _talk_ and Niall wanted to groan because he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to feel and he wanted to love and he wanted to be loved. Things were hot in Spain, the temperature, and the boys, who somehow had gotten even sexier in the two weeks Niall hadn't seen them and he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He craved their taste now, he knew what they all tasted like and felt like and he couldn’t have picked a favourite if someone threatened to cut off a finger. He couldn’t do it. Zayn was somehow musky and woodsy and deep and Liam tasted like toothpaste and man and Harry tasted like when he ate a rose petal once, bitter but somehow pleasant and tangy and Louis tasted like tea and the ocean. It was all innocent, it really was. Niall had no intention of leading them on. But he wasn’t really one for words. He much preferred actions.

~

 

“Can we talk?” Liam had asked Niall. _Jesus, make it a bit more obvious_ , Niall though fondly but followed Liam out of the room into the bathroom, where, thankfully, there were no cameras.

“Okay.” Liam said decisively. “We should discuss what this –“ he gestured frantically between them, - “is.”

“Liam.” Niall said, stepping closer and putting a hand on his chest. “I like you. You like me. Can we not just make out and not think about the rest?” Liam stepped backwards. Niall followed him.

“No?” Liam said, but it came out like a question. He shook his head firmly. “No, no we cant.” Niall took another step closer. Liam stepped backwards again. Niall stepped forwards, keeping his hand splayed on Liam's chest.

“Why not?” his voice came out gravelly, his accent lilting the words.

“Because. Um. There are reasons. I just- um.” Liam was stumbling now, his pupils dilated as Niall slowly backed him towards the wall.

“Why not?” Niall repeated, his gaze heavy and hot and his eyes lidded.

“Oh my god- I- um, okay.” Liam panted, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Niall asked, as Liam's back hit the wall. He stepped closer.

“Uh-huh, yes- Niall- yes.” Liam gasped. Niall could feel the heat of his body through the thin summer clothes they wore. He leaned his head closer.

“No.”

“What?” Liam asked, blindsided. “Why? _Niall!”_

“You wanted to talk, didn’t you?” Niall asked, feeling decidedly evil.

“ _Jesus,_ Niall. Yes, but-“ Liam broke off, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“But what?” Niall pressed, sensing victory. “Now you just want to make out and not think about the rest?” Liam moaned, his Adams apple jumping.

“Yes, _Niall,_ yes, okay fine, you win, whatever.” Liam conceded, looking as desperate for Niall to kiss his after their short separation as Niall felt.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Niall asked again, feeling Liam's breath brush his face.

“ _Yes.”_ And so Niall did. And when Niall felt Liam getting hard, and slipped a hand down the front of his shorts, Liam didn’t complain, or stop to _talk._ Liam let go, thrusting into Niall’s fist and gripping the back of Niall’s shirt and swearing, a long continuous moan.

“ _Shit, fuck, Niall, oh my god, Niall, I’m close, holy shit, fucking, Niall, I can’t breathe, Niall, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”_

And Liam coated his hand in his release, falling limply against the bathroom wall and looking completely blissed out. And Niall touched himself, filled with a bold confidence that he barely knew he possessed, slowly jerking himself off with his fist covered in Liam's come, slicking his cock and feeling so _incredibly filthy_. He stared straight at Liam, with an intensity that didn’t seem out of place, and when Liam hesitantly covered Niall’s hand with his own, Niall’s hips jerked and his mouth fell open and his head fell forward onto Liam's shoulder. Together, in silence they stroked and twisted and it was perfect and Niall didn’t want it to end but too soon his release was bubbling up inside him, curling, burning at the base of his spine and in his toes and he bit into Liam's shoulder as he came, covering both of their hands.

Niall swooped in and kissed Liam before the bliss could turn to panic or worry or _needing to talk_ , and, grabbing a hank of hand towels, he cleaned himself and his hand and Liam off, before kissing Liam once again and burying his face in Liam's shoulder.

“So,” Liam said, his voice low. “We just make out and not think about the rest?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Niall agreed with a grin. And he and Liam walked out, closer and different but still the same, and Niall almost felt bad that he would be doing this with the others. Almost.

~

 

Harry was next. It was almost an accident. He’d walked into the bathroom as Harry was getting out of the shower. Harry was un-phased, of course, nudity, at least, Harry’s nudity was a common occurrence in the house. But something about the steam in the room made Niall’s head spin, the heat making him feel like he was floating. Harry's eyes were intense, his curls wet and flattened. Niall had bitten his lip without realising it, and Harry shifted, not uncomfortably. His pupils dilated as Niall stepped forward and shut the door behind him firmly, locking it with a loud click. The towel Harry had grabbed to sling around his waist dropped as Niall stepped forwards once more, their eyes locked. The steam swirled around them, isolating them from everything else. One more step, and Niall was right up in front of Harry, looking up slightly into his face.

Harry bent, almost unconsciously, and Niall’s eyes closed. Their lips touched, and Niall leant into it, deepening it almost instantly. His arms came up, one clinging onto Harry's shoulder, the other reaching up to bury his hand in Harry's hair. With a gasp, Harry wrapped his arms around Niall’s waist and pulled him in, flush against Harry's naked chest. Niall nearly stumbled, stepping forward slightly, one of his legs between Harry's and he pushed, forcing Harry back until his ass backed into the counter, and Niall groaned, letting Harry's tongue twist filthily with his, letting Harry in and chasing his taste when he pulled back. It had been so long since he'd had contact like this. It was more delicious than Niall could remember. Harry was a much better kisser than any of the boys he'd kissed at home in Ireland. He couldn’t decide how he compared to the other boys. They were all different. All perfect. Niall was sure his eyes were almost rolling back in his head, and his cock was filling up against his thigh. Shoving his other hand in Harry's hair, pulling his head down further to where he wanted it, Niall wrapped his outside leg around Harry's thighs, and Harry made a choked noise. Harry pulled back, and Niall almost started to wonder if he'd pushed too far, but then Harry was spinning, taking advantage of Niall being unbalanced on one leg, and shoved Niall against the counter, leaving him sitting on it as he let go of his waist to tug at the hem of his t shirt. Niall let him, watched the developing muscles in Harry's chest flex as he flung the t shirt to the corner of the bathroom, taking a moment to appreciate the vision of Harry naked, flushed from the heat in the bathroom and the heat in Spain, cock  hard against his stomach.

He pulled Harry in again, craving the taste of his tongue and Harry responded eagerly, stepping impossibly closer between Niall’s thighs. Niall wrapped his legs around him, heels digging into the back of Harry's legs, tugging him in even more. Their crotches slammed together, and Harry whined. Niall was still wearing his sweatpants, but he wasn’t letting go of Harry to take them off. Tugging again with his legs, Harry's hips crashed into his. The kiss was sloppy now, Harry more concerned with moving his hips, and Niall let go of his mouth to tongue his way down Harry's neck, tasting clean and fresh and salty. Harry gasped, his hips moving in jerky thrusts and his hands bracing him on the counter either side of Niall’s thighs. Harry was close, Niall realised, remembering how young Harry was and how easy it was to think of him as older, more experienced. But it was okay because Niall was, embarrassingly, not too far behind, the heat and the steam and the contact sending delicious tingles up his spine. It had been too long, far too long, despite having made out with Harry that morning, sleepy and slow in Harry's bed, but Niall couldn’t find the concentration to care about anything but the lights bursting behind his eyelids and the feeling of Harry's naked skin beneath his mouth and his hands and his chest and then Harry was groaning, spurting up his stomach and Niall lost it, biting deep into Harry's neck as the world exploded into white.

~

 

Louis was next on Niall’s list. Not that he had a list. But he wanted Louis. Ever since kissing him at the bungalow, Louis had been insatiable; dragging him behind corners and trhough doorways to kiss him, releasing him and walking away calmly after. It made Niall wonder how many boys, if any Louis had kissed before. it was like Louis was as addicted to him as Niall was addicted to all of them. Niall was beginning to feel bad that he was with them like this, each one thinking they were alone, but how _the fuck was he meant to tell them_. _Oh, you know how we’ve been making out for a couple of weeks? Yeah I’ve been doing that with the others too._ You just didn’t _do_ it. Niall felt like a skank. He felt like a slut. He felt awful, but it wasn’t enough to make him stop. Not when he had four gorgeous boys that all wanted him like he wanted them. And so despite the nagging feeling in his stomach, Niall caught Louis’ eye from across the room and winked, slowly biting his lip and thinking of sex. Apparently his Sex Face ™ worked, because Louis stopped laughing at whatever he was laughing at with one of the other contestants, and wriggled in his chair. Hardly thirty seconds later, Louis stood up, staring directly into Niall’s eyes and left the room, hands in front of him to disguise what Niall recognised as the outline of his dick. He made him wait for five minutes, and a small piece of him, the bit of him left with morals and empathy hoped Louis would have given up. A very, very small piece.

Louis hadn't. He was in the bathroom, facing the wall, hands in fists and above his head, as though he’d been punching the tiles.

“Hey.” Niall said, as though it was a casual loo visit between friends.

“Shut up.” Louis said, crossing the distance between them and pulling Niall’s head to his. It was desperate, like Niall had left Louis for too long. The thought of Louis, waiting in the bathroom, trying desperately not to touch himself, waiting, waiting, hoping for the door to open was ridiculously hot, and Niall’s knees went weak. Shoving Louis back a couple of paces, until he was nearly touching the wall again, Niall locked eyes with him: Louis’ pupils were so blown that only a small ring of blue surrounded the black. Niall almost couldn’t believe he’d done that. He knew he was attractive, in an objective, third person _yeah, I look good_ kind of way, but he never thought he could do this to someone with just a look. The idea caused his dick to throb in his pants, and he ached to touch himself.

Thinking quickly, in case someone walked into the bathroom, he directed Louis to inside one of the stalls. Confused but eager, Louis complied. Niall followed, taking deep breathes to try and calm himself a bit. It didn’t work. As soon as he was inside and the door was shut behind them, Louis was kissing him again. Their teeth clacked in Louis’ rush. Niall didn’t care. He stumbled slightly, then sunk to his knees.

“Oh, _Jesus.”_ Louis’ muttered, almost reverently.

“Can I?” Niall asked, hand on the waistband of Louis’ shorts.

“Yes, _yes, shit yes.”_ Louis whimpered. Nialls shoved down Louis’ shorts and boxers, just far enough that his cock was out, slapping against his stomach with an obscene noise. Niall didn’t realise he was licking his lips until Louis groaned, and he lowered his head. It was…different. He was heavy and hot and thick on Niall’s tongue, salty and musky and he tasted like man and Louis and Niall licked a stripe up the underside, hands clenching Louis’ thighs for support. Louis had one hand in Niall’s hair, the other bracing him against the wall of the cubicle. Niall could feel the muscles in Louis’ thighs quivering, shaking. He took  Louis into his mouth again, opening his jaw wide and breathing through his nose. He was sloppy, inexperienced, but Louis didn’t seem to notice, or care, and the hand in his hair tightened, like he was resisting the urge to grab it and direct the way Louis wanted and Niall tried to convey to Louis with his eyes that he could but Louis groaned and closed his eyes. His head was thrown back, the muscles in his throat taut. Niall redoubled his efforts, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing on his cock, the head nudging the back of his throat every time and Niall was getting slightly light headed, like he wasn’t pulling in enough air but then Louis’ was warning him that he was going to come and the hand in his hair was pulling painfully tight now, and then Louis was spurting down his throat in hot, salty bursts, and Niall made sure to swallow it all, a silent apology for what he was doing, and worked Louis down.

“Fuck.” Louis panted. Niall smirked. And then Louis’ hands were on him, his mouth kissing down his neck and lower, and lower, and Louis’ was even more inexperienced than Niall, and he obviously hadn't practised on vaguely cock-shaped objects like Niall had, not that Niall would tell anyone that he possibly had, and he had to remind Louis to watch his teeth a couple of times but he was eager. And that made up for it, Niall let go and lost himself in the sensations and the feeling and forgot the curling anxiety at the bottom of his gut and focused on letting Louis pleasure him. When he came, it was a _congratulations_ to Louis. It was a thank you. It was an apology.

~

 

Zayn was irresistible. Niall craved him, Zayn pulsed in his blood and danced in his veins. They skipped meals, skipped down time, once were even ten minutes late to rehearsal. Something about the darker boy with his huge, dark eyes tugged at Niall’s heart and his cock and he always needed him. Zayn was aloof, cool, and Niall would almost believe that he didn’t want Niall as much as Niall wanted him until he could see his erection and see his arousal and feel his desire and Zayn made Niall feel like the most desirable man in the world.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“What?!” Zayn spluttered, choking on his drink. “Where did that come from?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Niall answered truthfully. “I want you.”

“Jesus. Okay. Um, how-?” Zayn asked, uncomfortable.

“I have lube. I have condoms. I have half an hour. Zayn.” he pulled Zayn's head towards him, locking their eyes. “I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, _Niall._ ”

“Well, yes, you will be.” Niall said cheekily, dodging the backhand Zayn vaguely aimed at him.

“Are you sure?” Zayn asked, worried.

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” His accent was thick now, his voice dropping an octave and he saw Zayn gulp, and nod resolutely.

Zayn had rolled the condom on himself, as Niall got himself prepared. The room was locked, but it was midday outside. It felt strangely daring. Niall was hard from the promise of what was to come and his fingers alone, and Zayn had been hard from their making out before. Zayn’s fingers probed him curiously, and Niall let out a small yelp.

Ducking in to kiss him, Zayn silenced him as he swiftly added another, efficiently, experienced. Niall wondered how he knew what to do, and do it so well, and then Zayn's fingers curled inside him and he lost all conscious thought. The burn as Zayn stretched him was welcome, was fantastic, his breathe was short and his eyes kept closing.

“Now.” He instructed Zayn, suddenly impatient with only fingers inside him.

“Are you ready?” Zayn asked quietly, his voice low and sexy. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Niall said. _I’ll hurt you,_ he finished in his head, shutting his eyes against the thought.

Zayn pushed in slowly, torturously slowly, and Niall was full, complete, he was being touched where he'd never been touched like this before, his own fingers and Harry’s not comparing to this feeling. Zayn let out an oath when he was fully inside, his hand grabbing Niall’s and twisting their fingers together, resting their hands on the pillow above Niall’s head. Nialls whole body felt like it was on fire. All his muscles were tight, coiled, clenched, his toes trembling. He traced Zayn's face with his fingertips.

 _I’m sorry,_ he thought.

“Move.” He said out loud.

Zayn moved, slowly, until Niall was rolling his hips, meeting Zayn on every thrust, and then Zayn started moving faster, the feeling indescribable and Niall was floating and sinking and spiralling. He was crying out with abandon now, the head board of the bed banging against the wall and Zayn's low, rough pants above him. He pulled himself up slightly to lick at Zayn's chest, the dark expanse shining with sweat and he was salty and he was sweet and it was Zayn. He was close, Zayn hitting that spot inside him on every thrust now, his legs fell to the bed, limp and his toes were curled. It was almost too much, too much pleasure and he almost asked Zayn to stop but he didn’t want to. He wanted this feeling forever. Zayn's palm was sweaty in their linked hands. His head was down, eyes closed in ecstasy and concentration, his tattoos dark against his skin. Niall wanted to kiss one. He did.

And then with one final thrust, Niall was gone, his world was shattered into tiny pieces, shards of glass and fire and fireworks, and Zayn fell apart after him, burying himself deep inside Niall and a keen coming from his throat. Zayn collapsed on him, sweaty and spent and sated, his breathes coming in shorts pants.

“Wow.” Zayn murmured into Niall’s neck, kissing it gently.

“Yeah,” agreed Niall. “Wow.”

Zayn fell asleep, curled into Niall's side, dark against the pale of Niall's arm, even with his slight Spanish tan, and Niall lay awake, gut twisting and something that felt horribly like love swirling in his chest.

~

 

He started feeling really guilty after he and Liam slept together. He'd convinced Liam, talked him into it with persuasive kisses and touches and it was only after seeing Niall fingering himself, desperation on his face that Liam had caved, entering him slowly, peppering his back with kisses and oaths. Liam had taken him harder than Zayn, for all his sweet front. His bulging muscles, his huge thighs and biceps and abs giving him a strength that rocked Niall, wrecked him, ruined him, turning into a whining mess, his body weight resting on his forearms, his ass in the air as Liam took him. Small whines were forced out of Niall’s throat with each thrust, his hips rocking back into Liam. This position was even better. He couldn’t see Liam's face, he couldn’t see anything with his face down and his ass up but he could feel everything, could feel Liam warm and heavy and solid above him, feel his cock shoving into him, feel the sweat dripping off him and he could hear the slapping noises of flesh on flesh when their hips connected. His orgasm came suddenly, unexpected, sweeping through him, crashing into him like a tidal wave. Liam rocked his hips through it, working him through the aftershocks, fucking him until it was too much and he was too sensitive and Liam came with his cock shoved deep inside of him. Afterwards, when Liam had dealt with the condom and gotten a cloth to wipe up Niall’s stomach, they had lay side on, facing each other. Liam had traced Niall’s face with his fingers, brushing his eyelids and he leant in and kissed him softly.

“I think I’m falling for you.” The words seemed to surprise Liam, as though he hadn't meant to say them, but he didn’t panic. He just smiled slowly as the words sunk in. “Yeah,” he said again. “I think I’m falling for you, Niall Horan.”

Niall couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. There was a knot somewhere deep in his chest.

He leant in and kissed Liam, smiling softly through his breaking heart and the regret in his stomach.

He didn’t say anything.

~

 

Harry was different. Harry didn’t know what he was doing, but he was willing to learn. He'd done research. Niall brought up the topic of sex, and Harry, calm, constant, willing Harry didn’t object.

“Okay,” he’d grinned. “Sounds like fun.”

“Just like that?” Niall had asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yup.” Harry’s eyes danced, popping the ‘p’.

And so they met up that night, Niall sneaking over to where Harry had told him to meet him, in the dark, quiet rehearsal room. Stepping over microphone cords and stools, accidentally standing on sheet music for this week’s song. Harry was waiting already, his eyes alight with mischief, and he cheekily held up a condom and a bottle of lube.

“You came prepared, I see.” Niall told him, warmed by the foresight.

“Yeah,” Harry told him, eyes soft and sparkling. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Niall was forcibly reminded of Zayn saying the same thing, and had to swallow heavily, blinking. He shoved Zayn out of his mind, shoved everyone else and everything else but this moment and Harry. And again in his head, all he could think was _no, you won’t. But I’ll hurt you._

“Ready?” Harry asked him. Niall had to cough before he could answer.

“Yeah.” A thought burst into his mind, and it was so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Harry asked, looking slightly offended.

“Is saying _give it to me_ too bad porno?”

“Most definitely.” Harry nodded firmly. It broke the slight tension though, and Harry's face relaxed into an angelic smile. Crooking a finger and crooning “Come here, bad boy,” Harry drained the rest of the remaining tension, and they dissolved in giggles. It suddenly struck him how young Harry was. He wasn’t that much younger than Niall, but Harry seemed so much younger. Sorrow and regret coiled in his belly, and he crossed the room and kissed Harry to forget about it. He drove all those thoughts out of his head with Harry and Harry's lips and Harry's curls.

He would never tire of Harry's lips, he'd decided. He couldn’t give this up, and kissing Harry, even with the taste of Louis still in his mouth, solidified his belief that he couldn’t stop this, he was addicted, lost in this feeling. They all wanted him, for some reason, they all craved his kiss and his touch as much as he needed theirs. Harry deepened the kiss, tilting his head down more, biting slightly on Niall’s lip as though he could tell his mind was drifting. Apologising, for more than one thing, Niall let Harry kiss him, revelling in the feeling. It was different with Harry, he was bigger than Niall, by more than Liam even, and he left Niall feeling safe, surrounded, loved. And when Harry tugged off his shirt, followed by his boxers, Niall did the same, staring for a moment at Harry's naked body. It never ceased to stun him.

 And then he was clutching Harry closer, kissing and sucking and licking and biting his neck and his shoulder and Harry was pulling at his back, digging his fingernails in, scratching slightly. Harry sunk to his knees, pressing a kiss to Niall’s thigh and he looked like a man praying, his hands clenched and his face bowed and Niall dug a hand into his curls, scratching his scalp lightly like he liked, and Harry looked up at him, all green eyes and dimples and innocence and arousal and Niall felt his heart stop. And then Harry was kissing and licking and lavishing his cock with attention and Niall felt like his heart was beating again, beating double time and it was going to beat right out of his chest. And then, when he was sure he would burst and he tugged Harry's hair in warning because he didn’t want to come, not like this, he wanted to come with Harry buried deep inside him and he tried to tell Harry this. Harry complied, easing off Niall’s dick, but he didn’t shift, instead moving his mouth to Niall’s balls, mouthing them gently and then, yanking Niall's thigh over his shoulder, further back, the tip of his tongue brushing at Niall’s hole and Niall jumped, not expecting it and his hands clenched down, one in Harry's hair and the other on the wall behind him, furiously, pointlessly trying to dig in and anchor himself.

Niall was writhing beneath Harry's ministrations, his legs about to give out and his chest about to explode and he was pretty sure he could come from this, and this alone, Harry licking broad, flat swipes across his hole, pointing it and swirling it in circles and inside him, Harry's tongue was inside him and Niall felt like he was going to come right there and then, coat Harry's pretty hair with it and he needed to stop and breathe.

“S-stop.” He managed, panting. Harry pulled back, his lips red and his tongue darted out to lick them, and Niall groaned, the knowledge of where that pretty little tongue had been and how it had made him feel too much. Harry opened the bottle of lube, the cracking of the seal seeming too loud in the quiet room, and quickly coated two fingers with it. Harry leant forward and kissed Niall again. He was still too out of it to do much more than kiss Harry back and try to breathe. Niall felt Harry’s cool fingers probing at his entrance, and his cock twitched against his stomach. He reached down to grab Harry's wrist, yanking it upwards, digging Harry's lube slicked fingers deep inside him, sighing in relief at the feel of it, the craving eased only slightly, his desire increasing.

“Eager,” Harry murmured against Niall’s lips. Too far gone to deny it, Niall just nodded against Harry's face, lips brushing along Harry's lips and chin. “ _Fuck_ , you’re gorgeous.”

Niall wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it or not. He ignored it, whining wordlessly in his need. Finally, blessedly, three fingers twisting and rolling inside of Niall, he heard the sound of Harry ripping the condom open, fumbling one handedly, fingers losing their rhythm as he rolled it on. And then Harry's fingers were gone, a slight pause and then Harry's cock was lined up, and he was pushing in, Niall's back still against the carpet covered sound proofed wall, his legs coming up automatically to wrap around Harry's waist, driving Harry in a couple of inches.

“ _Fuck.”_ They swore in unison, Niall hissing a breath in through his teeth, the burn quickly being overcome with pleasure and he moved, pulling Harry in closer, his arms clinging on to Harry's shoulders and his lips attaching to Harry's jaw as Harry began moving, bracing him and Niall against the wall with a hand, the other wrapping solidly around Niall's waist. Niall knew Harry wouldn’t let him fall.

Faster and faster Harry thrust, his hips moving in sensual circles, not pulling out, but staying deep and on every thrust, Harry's abs crushed Niall's cock between their stomachs, and his cock never moved far off that spot inside Niall. The air was cold, but their skin was heated and slick. The sensations were overwhelming, Niall feeling about ready to sob and he rested his head on Harry's shoulder and tried to focus on breathing as Harry drove home, his breaths coming in short gasps, muttering swearwords under his breath. It didn’t take long before Niall was close, the stimulation of his cock at the same time as Harry fucked him too much, too overwhelming, and Harry thrust, erratically and then froze, muscles clenching under Niall's touch, his eyes screwed shut as he came, his shoulders taut and a _Niall_ falling from his lips. And when Harry had come down from his high he pulled and arm down and roughly, quickly stroked Niall. It took two jerks and Niall was coming with a shout, coming over Harry's hand and his own stomach.

Harry rested his forehead on Niall's, eyes still shut.

“Niall,” he whispered, a prayer, and Niall was abruptly down from his buzz, the pleasant haze in his brain swamped by gut-clenching pity. He gently disentangled himself from Harry, whispering a quick goodnight and kissing him once, fleetingly on the lips. He fled from the room, back to his bed. He heard Harry come in five minutes later. He rolled over, and didn’t say anything.

He was good at that, not saying anything.

~

 

Louis hadn't been much of a challenge. He seemed genuinely surprised that he wanted Louis to top, and Niall couldn’t be bothered explaining how he loved feeling loved, feeling protected and surrounded and filled and covered and so he just said:

“Please.” And Louis blinked and assured him that _of course_ and they had been furiously making out, Louis’ hair rumpled and his lips bitten red and his cheeks flushed. His eyes were half lidded and his clothes were on the floor next to Niall's this was how Niall loved him, all fallen apart and hazy and so he’d sprung the idea on Louis, without words as much as passing him a condom and rolling over, spreading his legs.

“Jesus, Niall,” Louis chided, “you can’t just pull moves like that!”

“Sorry,” Niall lied, his eyes following the hand with the condom in it.

“No, you're not.” Louis stated, his eyes dancing.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Niall challenged, meeting the lust-darkened eyes of Louis. Louis smirked and suddenly and causally stroked Niall's entrance with a slick finger, making Niall gasp and flinch in surprise.

“You like that?” Louis asked, biting his lip and looking more sexy than anyone should have the right to.

“Yes...” Niall breathed, his hands grabbing at the sheets beside him, clenching when Louis added another finger, teasing, playing on the rim of him and Niall closed his eyes and waited, because Louis could never tease for too long and then _yes, thank god_ Louis’ fingers were inside him and he didn’t hesitate, smoothly adding a third, and scissoring them, stretching him, getting him ready. And Niall remembered the boy he'd met at Harry's bungalow, the one who shyly admitted he was gay, the one who kissed him back desperately and was eager to learn, learning how to please Niall and Niall's heart clenched in his chest. Louis had learned so much, he knew just how to touch him now, knew just how to get him worked up and then Louis’ fingers were gone, and Louis was asking him if he was ready, and Niall was nodding frantically.

Louis pushed in swiftly, not giving Niall time to adjust and he gritted his teeth and then Louis was moving, changing the pain into pleasure and Niall grabbed helplessly at the sheets again. Louis was delicate, he was smaller than the others, smaller than Liam and Harry and skinnier even than Zayn and he was all angles and porcelain, and Niall was in awe at the vision above him. He kept it slow and steady, even as the pressure built and he kept his strokes even and measured and the calm, slow pace was driving Niall wild, and he wanted more, and he dug his finger nails into Louis’ back, running them down to his ass and biting in, smoothing them back up. Louis got the hint, changing from slow to frantic, and Niall held on as Louis pounded into him and skin was slapping against skin and Niall's hand fell from Louis’ back to twist in the sheets again, to hold on to something solid and real and the pleasure built, swirling in Niall's chest and his spine and his toes and his balls and he was climbing, climbing, Louis pushing him higher and higher and Niall was falling apart, and he was dragging Louis with him and the world spun and fireworks exploded and Niall's toes curled and the door opened.

Niall froze.

Louis pulled out so fast it burned, twisting in the sheets to face the door.

Zayn hovered in the doorway, his hand falling from the handle and his face torn between betrayal and rage as he turned to flee.

“ _Wait!”_ Niall called desperately, his mind whirling, unable to process what had happened, all he knew was that Zayn couldn’t leave, couldn’t run away without having an explanation and the regret and worry twisted in Niall's gut and turned to bile and he gagged.

“ _Zayn!”_ He pled, hand outstretched as if to physically pull him into the room.

“Niall?” Louis asked, his face confused and his voice heart-breakingly mystified, completely wrong-footed as to what was going on.

“Louis.” Zayn said coldly, his glare daggers of ice and Louis recoiled, hurt and Niall wished he could find the words to tell Zayn and Louis that it wasn’t the others fault, that it was _him_ and him alone but he couldn’t speak.

“Zayn!” Niall begged again, instead, standing up on shaky legs and attempting to climb out of the bed and walk over to Zayn but the burn between his legs stopped him, shooting up his spine and folding his legs beneath him.

“Niall!” Zayn and Louis cried at the same time as he collapsed. Zayn rushed forward and caught him before he hit the ground, moving him away from Louis with a sideways look, setting him down on the chest that rested at the end of the other bed in the room.

“Are you okay?” Zayn asked, concerned even after finding Niall in bed with Louis and Niall's heart broke.

“I’m fine.” Niall mumbled, his head swirling, trying to figure out _what the fuck to say and how to say it and what words he could use to make this seem even the slightest bit better._

“Well, I’m glad.” Zayn's voice was clipped, hurt hovering beneath the anger. The room seemed to pause for a second, no one breathing or knowing what to say and the seconds ticked louder than bombs before the tension in Zayn's biceps grew too much and he exploded.

“So what,” Zayn demanded, so far removed from his usual calm and possessed demeanour. “You’re fucking him too?!”

“What do you mean _too_?!” Louis cried, face still red and flushed and lips bitten. He hadn't moved to cover his modesty since Zayn had walked in. “You mean he's – you and him – oh my _god,_ Niall!”

“Not just you and me.” Zayn said bitterly, eyes watching Niall’s face carefully. Niall winced, aware it was a giveaway but unable to help his instinctual reaction. He saw something break in Zayn's eyes, as he acknowledged that no, it wasn’t just him and Louis and oh god, the regret boiling in his stomach burned. Zayn apparently had had suspicions, and Niall grimaced when he realised he hadn't been in the least bit subtle with any of them.

 _Oh shit,_ Niall thought, unsure of the correct path to take here.

“Is this a joke to you, Niall? Fucking all of us for a _laugh?!”_ The way Zayn spit the words at him made regret twist uneasily in his stomach. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea. _No shit, Niall,_ he thought. _Fucking all of your band mates, fucking falling in love with all of them, oh yeah, that’s a fucking **grand** idea._

“No-!” he tried to protest, unsure of how to continue, how to put into words the fact that he liked them all, separately, after all how could a lad choose, really, and that he didn’t want to play favourites and okay, maybe he just really, really likes sex but it was more than that and he was quite possibly in love with them all and the words all choked up in his throat and got stuck. He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat and hot tears were prickling behind his eyes and he tried to blink them back, but with Zayn _looking_ at him like that, like he _hated_ him, and Louis looking so betrayed, still flushed from their fucking, he couldn’t hold them back and they spilled over, blazing hot trails down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry!” he wailed, “I’m just really fucking sorry, okay?” He covered his face with his hands, not wanting to see them _looking_ at him like that anymore, shame burning in his gut and he didn’t want them to see him crying, not when they were right, not when he was the one in the wrong here.

“Ah, shit, Niall.” He heard Zayn say, breathing out a sigh. “Don’t cry on me – hey! Look at me.” Zayn crossed the room and put his hand on Niall’s shoulder, the dark standing out against the pale of Niall’s skin. His other hand crept under Niall’s chin, tilting his face up to look him in the eyes. Niall sniffed, heaving in a great shuddering breath.

“I wasn’t lying.” Niall said quietly, his voice breaking pathetically. “I never lied to you.” He looked at the floor, unable to face Zayn, unable to deal with the guilt twisting in his stomach.

“I know.” His eyes flew up again, locking on Zayn's.

“What?” He breathed, unsure if he'd heard Zayn properly. Because Zayn had no right to believe him now, he shouldn’t believe him, not after he'd just discovered that Niall had been fucking everyone else.

“I know you didn’t lie to us. Just- _shit_ , I don’t know what I’m meant to say here.” Zayn puffed out a frustrated sigh, removing his hand from Niall’s shoulder to run it down his own face. “Please don’t cry.”

Niall blinked, hardly able to breathe. Was Zayn _forgiving_ him?

“Just, look, it’s a shitty thing you did okay? But I know it wasn’t malicious. I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do something like this to purposefully hurt me- to hurt us. I just, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel! But fuck, _I can’t stay angry with you._ ” Zayn sounded almost indignant that he couldn’t stay mad with Niall. Niall nodded, his bottom lip wobbling.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, again. “I do like you all, like _really like you_ and it wasn’t just sex, I swear, I wasn’t lying to anyone, I should have told you, I know, but I didn’t know how to tell you and you all just assumed you were the only one and _fuck, I’m sorry,_ but I couldn’t choose, I couldn’t give one of you up and –“

Zayn's lips on his cut him off. Nearly sobbing in relief, he flung his arms around Zayn's neck.

“Wait, so that’s it?!” he heard Louis ask resentfully. “He fucks around with all of us and all he needs to do is say sorry and cry at you until you fall right back into his arms?!”

And the knot was back in his stomach.

“Louis…” he pled, unsure of what to say, trying to convey his _I’m sorry_ with his eyes. Louis turned his head away.

“Lou-“ he tried again. Louis ignored him. _Oh god, oh no, oh shit_ Niall panicked, thinking of a future where Louis never talked to him, where Louis told everyone what a filthy, cheating slut he was, where Louis left the band, where Louis spat on him and told him he hated him….

“Please don’t hate me.” He almost whispered, begging, eyes downcast and his mind whirling with the things Louis could say to him, the things he deserved.

“Niall, I could never hate you.” Louis said, still not looking at him. “Though by all rights, I probably should.” He continued, almost to himself. He looked up, catching Niall’s eye for the first time since Zayn had entered the room.

“You should.” Niall miserably agreed. “I’m a horrible slut, and you should probably never talk to me again.” To his surprise, instead of agreeing and leaving, Louis burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Louis wheezed, “But the way you said that! Niall, you may be many things, but you’re not a slut.” Zayn had joined in his laughter, pulling Niall tight against his chest and it seemed to ease the constriction rather than increase it.

“But I am!” Niall protested, completely serious and glumly accepting of his own slutty fate.

“No, honey, you’re not.” Louis argued, a real smile gracing his features, lighting up his face. He stood up, pulling a sheet off the bed to wrap around him and padded over to where he and Zayn were sat.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with what you did. But I’m not going to tell you you're a slut or hate you.” Louis said, crouched in front of him and looking him in the eyes.

“Why?” Niall asked, confused.

“Because,” Louis paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I think,” Louis paused again. Niall held his breath.

“That I love you. And if that means sharing you, then…” Louis trailed off.

The room was silent. Niall didn’t know what to say. Had Louis just given him _permission_ to continue? Had Louis just told him he loved him? Nialls head was spinning. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t think straight and so he did the only logical thing in response.

He burst into tears.

“Oh my god!” Louis exclaimed. “Are you okay? Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Niall sobbed happily, disentangling himself from Zayn to throw himself at Louis.

“Nothing’s wrong. At all!”

~

 

“What a flattering response,” Zayn chuckled later, receiving an elbow to the ribs for his trouble from where Louis was sitting on the couch beside him, Niall curled up into Louis’ side.

“Shut up.” Louis laughed, smoothing Niall’s hair off his forehead affectionately. They sat in silence for a while, both of them lost in their own heads, the TV softly breaking the quiet, throwing light across the room.

“Zayn?” Louis asked some time later, his voice pensive.

“Yeah?”

“You love him too, don’t you?”

Zayn was silent for a while, before blowing out a sigh that ruffled the hair across his forehead.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He said slowly, hesitant but sure. “Is that an issue?”

“It should be,” Louis replied, sounding confused. “But it’s not. Like I said before, if loving him means sharing him…” Zayn nodded.

“I know the feeling, mate.”

~

 

Louis and Zayn gave Niall three days to tell the other two. They told him it wasn’t fair and he knew and he begged pathetically for them to tell them with him and they refused. It was his just punishment, Niall recognised. And if having to tell the other two was his only punishment, he could accept that. It didn’t stop him from being so scared he felt sick though.

He cornered Harry first, wanting to put off the hurt look in the big brown puppy dog eyes of Liam.

“What’s up?” Harry asked him, oblivious and innocent and carefree and oh _god_ Niall didn’t want to do this.

“Um.” He said, biting his lip, unable to find the words to start with.

“Hey,” Harry said, tilting his head up with a hand under his chin. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

Niall burst into tears.

“It’s not okay,” he wailed. “I fucked up, Harry, I fucked up real bad.”

“Oh my god,” Harry said, looking completely panicked. “Oh my god, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” sobbed Niall. “I’ve done something really stupid and I feel so awful about it, you have no idea how much I feel bad about this.”

Harry shushed him, tucking Niall's head under his chin, smoothing Niall's hair.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. We’ll sort it, okay?”

“It is that bad.” Niall informed him miserably, pulling back, and taking a step backwards. “You know how we’ve been, well we’ve – you know-“

‘Been fucking?” Harry interjected helpfully. Niall nodded.

“Um, I – um, oh my god, this is hard. I’ve been doing, _that_ \- well um, you're not the only one I’ve been doing that with?” It came out like a question, Niall staring intently at the floor, tears burning his eyes.

“You _what?_ With _who?”_ Harry seemed genuinely curious, if slightly scandalised.

“Um, Louis. And Zayn. And, um, Liam.” He forced the names past his lips, each feeling like a gunshot.

“Oh my _god.”_ And to Niall's complete and utter shock, Harry started laughing.

“Are you okay?” Niall demanded, worried about shock or hysterics or denial or Harry thinking this was a joke because oh god, having to say that all a second time-

And Harry nodded, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

“Holy _shit!”_ He declared. “Holy _shit.”_ Unsure of what was so amusing about the fact that Niall was a complete and utter slut, he prodded Harry hesitantly in the ribs.

“Come here,” Harry said fondly, opening his arms. Niall sank into them, confused about absolutely everything, but falling into Harry's arms and enjoying the feeling of being surrounded. “It’s okay.” Harry assured him. “it’s not like I thought we were, you know, _exclusive_ or anything.” Niall breathed a sigh of relief, pressing his lips into Harry's neck.

“Holy shit.” Harry repeated, seemingly stuck.

“What?” Niall asked him, half irritated that his heart wrenching confession had barely even bothered Harry.

“I’ve been telling Liam he needs to get laid for months.” The irony of telling someone who was fucking the same person as him to get laid seemed to be too much for Harry, who dissolved into laughter again.

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, relief making him light headed but still slightly put out over worrying over nothing. “This is a big deal!”

“I thought you’d _killed_ someone and needed me to help bury the body.” Harry informed him, pecking him on the forehead. And everything was fine between them, because apparently fucking three of a guy’s best mates is a lesser crime than asking for help in burying a dead body.

Niall filed that away in his Life Lessons, to remember.

~

 

Niall put off telling Liam for as long as he could, guilt holding him back. Fear. He was scared that Liam would –quite rightfully – refuse to speak to him again. He wouldn’t beg, Niall resolved. He would accept whatever decision Liam made. He owed it to him.

“Liam,” Niall called from where he was sitting on the couch. Liam approached the couch wearily, plonking himself down next to Niall and slinging an arm across the back of it, exhaling in a sigh.

“What’s up?” he asked, staring at Niall's worried face.

“You know I would never intentionally hurt you, right?” Niall asked, hesitant and unsure if this was the right way to go. Maybe he should just say it. Like ripping off a band aid.

“What is this about, Niall?” Liam looked perplexed. “Are you – are you _breaking up with me?”_

“What?! No!” Niall exclaimed, completely wrong-footed.

“Then what’s with you? You’ve been avoiding me for the past couple of days.” Liam looked genuinely hurt, and Niall swallowed thickly.

“I, uh, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh my god.” Liam stared at him, worst case scenarios obviously running through his head.

“Um, _Jesus,_ I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it.” Liam said flatly, his expressive brown eyes dulled.

“Um, okay. Um, oh my god. I’ve been, ah, sleeping with other people.” _Like a band aid, Niall._

“You’ve been sleeping with other people.” Liam repeated slowly, like he had to force the words out of his mouth, foreign and unsure.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, oh my god, it’s just I couldn’t not – I couldn’t choose- I, _fuck.”_

“Who?” Liam asked, his eyes flicking up to connect with Niall's.

“Zayn and Louis and Harry.” God, the words never got easier to say. He felt as if he should have three matching bullet wounds in his side.

“I see.”

“Liam?” Niall reached out to touch his cheek, letting his hand drop silently to his lap when Liam flinched away from his touch.

“Just – can you just go please? I need to think. I, oh god.” Liam begged, not looking at him.

“I’m so sorry, Liam.” Niall said quietly, standing up, leaving his heart on the couch.

“Just go.” Liam said, his voice wavering.

Niall left the room, not looking back. The sound of a sob reached him, and his abused, raw heart clenched. His wounds were self-inflicted, and it made him fell all the worse. He fell on the carpet, curling his knees up and resting his back against the wall, clenching his eyes to stop the tears.

~

 

Zayn found him, shaking, huddled in the corridor, gross and snotty and teary and he sat next to him, saying nothing, providing comfort with his presence.

“He’ll come around.” Zayn offered after a long silence. Niall sobbed a laugh.

“No, he won’t.”

Zayn said nothing.

~

 

Liam apparently told Harry to tell Simon he couldn’t make it to rehearsal today, and when Niall heard it his stomach dropped. It felt as though a stone had been thrown in his gut, a fist grabbing his intestines and pulling. They were lost without Liam, their voices sounding hollow and dim.

“That’s enough.” Simon dismissed them, giving up on them after an hour of disjointed, painful singing. “I want whatever this is to be sorted by the next rehearsal, okay? If you want this to work, you need to put in the effort.”

 _I tried,_ Niall thought bitterly. _I tried so hard, I tried too hard. I’ve ruined it all._

The next day was the same. Liam left a room when Niall entered it, not looking at him, not speaking. Niall felt ill, tears never far away, even as Zayn kissed him and Louis touched him and Harry loved him, slow and sweet and Niall wished he could tell them he loved them, wished he could force the truth through his mouth for once, but he couldn’t, and so he kept on saying nothing.

Painful, slow, the days dragged. Niall could see any chances of Liam _coming around_ slowly slipping away.

~

 

“Niall?” a quiet voice came from his doorway, the figure in it silhouetted against the fluorescent light of the hallway.

Liam.

“Can I come in?” Liam asked. He sounded like he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not.

“Of course,” Niall said immediately, flicking on his beside light and shuffling over to make room for Liam on the bed.

“I’ve been thinking.” Liam said, perching on the edge of the bed.

“And?” Niall prompted, terrified to ask.

“I don’t know.” Liam replied, with an anguished shrug. “I feel like I should hate you, I should never want to see you again, but…”

Niall breathed, hardly daring to hope.

“Do you regret it?” Liam said suddenly, turning to stare Niall in the eyes.

“I regret that I hurt you.” Niall responded, instantly and truthfully.

Silence descended upon them again.

“Tell me something.” Liam said abruptly. “ If I asked you to stop, to be with me and only me, would you do it?”

“Li…” Niall pled, unwilling to answer. Unwilling to speak the truth.

“No, Niall. Just answer.”

“Honestly Liam, I don’t know.” Niall answered, distressed. “I love you, but… I love the others too. I’m not sure if I could give them up.”

“I understand.” Liam said quietly. He shifted on the bed, and Niall was convinced he was leaving. He couldn’t bring himself to regret saying the truth though. He'd done enough lying.

And then Liam's warm hand was on his face and his lips were on Niall's, and Niall nearly sobbed. It was bliss, it was forgiveness, it was everything. Niall's head spun, overwhelmed with relief and the taste of toothpaste and Liam, the taste he'd been missing for so long. He kissed him back desperately, too much teeth and too much tongue and he grabbed Liam's face with two hands to pull him just that much closer and it was everything.

Liam pulled back, resting his forehead on Niall's.

“I’m still not okay with this.” Liam said softly, his eyes closed. “But I’m not giving you up. And if that means fighting for you, or…sharing you, then I’ll do it.”

A great weight in Niall's chest lifted, and he felt as though he could have floated to the ceiling right there and then, with only Liam's hands holding him down.

Niall leaned back slightly, catching Liam's big, brown eyes with his.

“I love you.” He said, trying to convey the depth of his feelings with his eyes.

“I know,” Liam responded quietly.

And then he was leaning in again, his lips warm and solid against Niall's, his tongue gentle and perfect against his, and something about the _pureness_ of the kiss took Niall's breath away.

It was so open, so raw, Liam kissing him with the pain and betrayal and determination of the past few days, Niall kissing him back with relief and love and his everything. When Liam made to take Niall's top off, Niall let him, barely breaking eye contact. Liam pulled his own over his head, slow and sure.

Liam was glorious, all muscles and pale skin and Niall leant forward, pressing a kiss to the centre of Liam’s chest. An apology. A thank you.

Liam peeled back the covers covering Niall's legs, still keeping eye contact. Niall shivered, feeling more exposed and open than he ever had before. he wasn’t scared though, not anymore. Not of Liam. Not of his feelings. He let them out, let go of his insecurities, let Liam's eyes rove across him, feeling safe and secure. Liam kissed him again, more urgently now, and Niall opened his mouth, letting him in, surrendering to him. Liam pulled at the waistband of Niall's boxer, and he got the hint, tugging them down and quickly kicking them off. Liam pulled his sweats off, breaking the kiss for a second to throw them on the floor. And then they were pressed together, fully, wholly, skin against skin.

Niall shuddered from the intensity, gasping when Liam thrust against him, their cocks lining up and gliding against one another and he dug a hand into Liam’s hair, the other clutching at his back, and rolled his hips, trying to keep the contact, keep the friction. Liam was kissing him desperately, eyes closed and mouth open and he was in control, taking what he wanted and Niall was in heaven.

Liam put two fingers up to Niall's mouth, and Niall sucked them in, keeping his eyes locked with Liam's as he swirled his tongue around Liam's digits. Liam closed his eyes briefly, looking overwhelmed, before pulling his fingers out of Niall's mouth and trailing them gently down Niall's body, leaving a trail of spit, glistening against Niall's pale skin. He traced them teasingly over Niall's cock, and Niall whimpered, shoving his hips up to get more friction but Liam pulled his hand away, following a path past Niall's balls, stroking the sensitive skin behind them, and then finally, gloriously dancing them across Niall's entrance.

“Please,” Niall moaned, shifting his hips.

“Yeah?” Liam asked, focusing on Niall's face.

“Yes.” Niall stated firmly, need leaking across his stomach. Liam reached over to the top drawer in Niall’s bedside table, yanking it open and searching in the dim light for the bottle of lube. He cracked it open when he found it, drizzling it over his fingers.

Tracing around Niall's hole again, Liam hesitated.

“Please,” Niall begged again, raising his hips in an effort to get Liam to touch him harder.

Liam slipped a finger in, working it past the ring of muscle, moving it deliciously and Niall moaned, wanton and hazy with desire.

Pushing another one in, Liam leant down, kissing Niall again. Niall responded, digging his fingers into Liam's back, pulling him down, keeping him close. Liam was working his fingers, stretching, opening Niall, and he wriggled another one in, pausing in kissing Niall to breathe out a _fuck._

And then he was taking his hand away, lining up his cock and he paused, panting.

“Condom?” Liam asked him, urgent and rough voiced.

Niall shook his head hurriedly, too far gone to consider stopping, too frantic to pause.

“Want you,” he managed to rasp, pulling in a gasp and only catching Liam's lips, descending upon his again. Liam pushed in, slowly, gently. Niall felt like he was being filled up, not only physically but emotionally and the feeling built in his chest, threatening to overtake him. Liam didn’t hesitate, pulling nearly all the way out and shoving back in in a smooth thrust, quickly setting a fast pace.

Niall still loved how he could do this to him, how he could turn prim and proper Liam Payne into _this_ man, the one who was sweaty and naked with glazed eyes and tousled hair, looking at Niall like he was a meal to eat and the best thing in the world. Niall trembled beneath him, and Liam bent down to kiss him, lips meeting on each thrust because neither of them could find the concentration to hold the kiss.

It was messy, neither of them focused on anything but the sensations, their release, and Liam was hitting all the right spots inside him, brushing his cock every time he trust in deep. It was almost over too quick, the pace barely increasing, staying fast and measured, but then Liam was groaning and jerking his hips erratically, and the change in rhythm was amazing, and he was close, so close.

“Tell me you love me,” Liam demanded breathlessly, pulling his face back to look Niall in the eyes.

“I, oh god, I love you,” Niall cried and he was gone, exploding over the edge and falling and soaring and his vision blurred white, his toes curling and he experienced the sensation of warm liquid being released deep inside him.

Liam fell forwards, rolling slightly to the side so not to crush Niall, pulling out slowly. He lay beside Niall for a long time, their pants slowing to deep breaths.

“We okay?” Niall asked later, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” responded Liam. “I think we will be.”

~

 

It was slightly awkward for a while, eyes of the others not quite meeting. Niall could almost see them wondering if the others touched Niall the way they did, if the others could make him make the same noises or fall apart in the same way and he half worried it would turn into a competition. It soon faded away though, their natural closeness overcoming any awkwardness and they settled again into their rhythm. They were on fire with their songs again, making Simon laugh delightedly and getting through each week on the competition.

Each night, a different boy steered him towards their bed, and Niall half wondered if they'd come to an agreement, worked out a schedule or something. It sounded ridiculous in his head. He couldn’t believe this was his life: he got to spend each day messing around, playing his guitar and singing and being in the company of his four best friends that he was quite possibly in love with. All the sex was a bonus too. It was somehow everything he never knew he wanted and all the things he needed. He felt as though they were flying, the view incredible, the sensations amazing. It was everything he never would have gotten if his life was anything closely resembling normal and he was never more thankful that he'd been talked into the X Factor.

 _Yeah,_ Niall thought as Zayn tugged him towards his bed. _This is the life._


End file.
